


i'm so damn scared, of dying without you

by shh_go_to_sleep



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: (they're around 14-15 in this), M/M, Pre-Series, implied suicidal thoughts, mentions of bullying, punk!Kieren, young!Kieren, young!Rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 06:04:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2258571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shh_go_to_sleep/pseuds/shh_go_to_sleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick searches for Ren. When he finds him, Ren asks him an odd question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm so damn scared, of dying without you

It was a regular day in Roarton — the sky was grey, the sun nowhere in sight. The only thing different was that Kieren wasn’t at Rick’s side this morning, wasn’t there waiting at the school entrance, and it was making Rick feel uneasy. He searched for his best friend whenever he could, but didn’t find him until lunch.

 

Kieren was outside, sitting against a tree. His long legs were drawn up to his chest, a sketchbook atop his thighs. He was wearing his favourite leather jacket, spiked with studs, the one that made him look so _angry_. He was drawing something furiously, a scowl on his usually gentle face. The wind ruffled his ginger hair and Rick just stared for a few seconds, before coming up to his best friend.

“You alright, mate?” he asked in a place of greeting.

Kieren looked up at him and something flashed across his face, before it was gone. “Yeah,” he replied breathily, reaching up with his hand, the one holding a pencil, to brush away his fringe obscuring his sight. It was already too long, he needed a haircut.

Rick couldn’t stop staring at him lately. He’d started noticing things, too, things that he’d never paid attention to, before. Like that one time, when Kieren had laughed at something dumb that Rick’d said, and two dimples had appeared in his cheeks, and it’d made him look so ridiculously _happy._

Now, he noticed red rings around Kieren’s eyes (his eyelashes were _so_ long) and he thinned his lips.

“What happened?” he asked through a bile rising in his throat. He knew Kieren was bullied sometimes — it could be because of his punk appearance, his leather jackets and heavy boots; or his general _freakiness_ — he was an artist, he was weird sometimes. He knew his Dad, Bill, hated him for some reason. But Rick never knew what the problem was. Kieren was alright, he was Rick’s best mate. It sometimes caused problems too — people tried to pick on him for hanging out with the weirdo, but he never let them. He was strong and big, he could protect them both.

Kieren tried to shrug nonchalantly, but at the same time his lip wobbled. He bit down on it, harshly, as if trying to keep himself in check.

Rick seated himself next to his best mate, so close that their arms were nearly touching. He wasn’t afraid of the studs.

“Come on, Ren. You can tell me.” Rick knew that he was the only one Kieren ever opened up to. It made him feel special.

Kieren just shook his head and looked away, behind Rick, at something that Rick knew wasn’t really there. He would get like that sometimes. Rick waited patiently, focused on the way Kieren’s long fingers kept playing with the pencil. It seemed to bring him some sort of comfort.

Finally, after a quiet while, Kieren spoke up, “Do you think it would matter if I died?”

Rick sighed. He learned not to dismiss such things with a laugh. Kieren needed someone to talk to, he would talk.

He furrowed his brows and pondered, carefully picking his next words. “In the macro sense, maybe not.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Kieren hands form into fists. He added quickly, “But it would matter to your family, to the people who love you.”

Kieren snorted, “Yeah, like anyone would care.”

Rick turned sharply to him. “I would. I do, care,” he said heatedly. “You matter to me, Ren.”

Kieren was looking at him with those big, big eyes, and there was something so intense about them that Rick gulped nervously. And then Kieren blinked, and smiled shyly, with just one corner of his mouth.

“Thanks,” he said simply. He fiddled with something on his lap, and it turned Rick’s attention back to the sketchbook.

“What were you drawing?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Ah. Nothing important.” But he moved his hand protectively over the pages. 

Rick narrowed his eyes. “Fine. Don’t tell me. But I’ll find out, I’ll get Jem to help me.”

Kieren laughed, and it made Rick smile, too. “Yeah, you wish.” He elbowed Rick in the ribs, and even though it wasn’t with much force, the touch still somehow managed to make Rick’s breath stutter.

They scrambled to their feet — the lunch break was almost over, anyway — and brushed their trousers clean from any stray leaves of grass.

When Rick looked up, he found himself with an armful of his best friend. He hugged back without a second thought, his arms coming and fitting easily around Ren’s waist.

“Thanks, really,” he thought he heard Kieren whisper into his shoulder.

He didn’t really think, didn’t have to, just did what felt natural — he kissed his best friend’s temple, briefly, overcome by a sudden rush of protectiveness. He felt Kieren’s arms tighten momentarily around him, and then they both stepped away, ready to go to classes. Nobody said anything; they carried on, like it was the most normal thing to do — and maybe it was.


End file.
